What Hemoptsys Can Lead To
by OtakuFangirlCrazyArtist
Summary: When Juushiro Ukitake has a relapse, he checks himself into Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital; where he piques the interest of a certain diagnostician. NOT cracky in the slightest! I promise . Rated T for yaoi and some blood.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi! This is a crossover between House, M.D. and Bleach. I know that crossovers have a reputation of being badly written and not well thought out, but this one isn't cracky at all. It's pretty much an episode of House with Juushiro Ukitake from Bleach as the patient. Soul Society doesn't exist and yes, it is ShunUki! I wrote this to a variety of songs: _Bells For Her_, _Yes, Anastasia_ and _Icicle_ by Tori Amos, _Sweet Sacrifice_ by Evanescence, _Points of Authority_ by Linkin Park, _Fallen Embers _by Enya, _Remember the Name_ by Fort Minor ft. Styles of Beyond, _So Cold _and _Here We Are _by Breaking Benjamin, _What About Now_, _Feels Like Tonight_ and _There And Back Again_ by Daughtry. If you really want to know which parts go with which songs, message me and I'll tell you. Not all of them quite make sense with the plotline, but they were my muses. Enjoy, and please review! n.n

* * *

House propped his feet up on the desk of the nurse's station, surveying the open pages of People's latest issue with unhealthy interest. The ER bustled around him, nurses and doctors hurrying from patient to patient; calling instructions to each other as they diagnosed and treated. The voices of calm physicians, pained patients and anxious relatives mingled with one patients' harsh cough. The amount of noise was annoying, but here House could hide from Cuddy and his impending clinic hours. If only he had thought to bring earplugs. Maybe he could mooch some from Wilson later. All things considered, the ER was becoming a convenient place to hide; because Cuddy would never expect him to be around so many patients.

House looked over the top of his magazine surreptitiously, keeping a sharp eye out for his persistent boss. But as he scanned the beds, one patient caught his eye. A young man who couldn't have been over thirty, with a long ponytail of startling white hair. He had a nasty cough, which was boring; but there was blood on his shirt, possibly from the coughs. That made it more interesting. The doctor heaved his feet from the counter and stood, leaning his cane. He limped across the momentarily clear aisle to the young man's bed.

"Are you being treated?" House asked bluntly.

"Not yet. But I can see you're very busy." The man smiled. House raised an eyebrow.

"You're not impatient to be helped?"

"There are others here who can benefit more than I. I'm willing to let them come first."

The small prick of curiosity that had sparked was growing rapidly. "Well. What seems to be the problem?" House asked sardonically.

"I used to have TB," the young man explained, "I took the medication for it and that seemed to cure it. But a few days ago I started relapsing. So I thought I should come in."

House studied him silently for a minute, turning the symptoms and the patient's strange demeanor over in his brilliant mind. "How long ago did you stop taking the drugs?"

The young man thought for a minute. "A few months ago."

"When were you diagnosed?"

"Hm... I must have been five, maybe six."

"And how old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"You've lived with tuberculosis for 19 years?" House asked incredulously.

"Yes, I guess it has been that long... Is that unusual?" The young man asked, genuine curiosity in his face.

"Someone who's lived with TB for most of his life should not be this happy."

The young man laughed softly. "I accepted long ago that my life might end prematurely. I'm not afraid of it anymore."

House said nothing, studying the youth with doubled interest. "Interesting..." he muttered after a minute. "Let's get you upstairs."

*~*~*~*

House strode into the diagnostics office, tossing copies of the new patient's chart onto the table. Chase, Cameron and Foreman picked them up with varying degrees of interest. As they scanned the information, House uncapped a fresh black marker and wrote the symptoms on the white board:

_Hemoptsys_

_Chest pain_

_Fever_

_Emaciated_

_White hair_

"Juushiro Ukitake, twenty-four year old male presenting with these symptoms. Go." House said, leaning on the top of the board.

"It's just a relapse of the TB," Cameron said, scanning the chart.

"Tuberculosis doesn't explain the hair." House countered.

"Maybe it's natural. He could be an albino." Foreman suggested.

"If you had looked at his admission photo, you would have seen that his eyebrows are black," House argued, "So either he dyes his eyebrows, or something is causing a melanin deficiency. Which is more likely?"

"Him dying his eyebrows," Chase muttered.

"Come on, people!" House said in exasperation. "That's not interesting. What causes melanin deficiency?"

Foreman sighed. "Hypopigmentation? He's pretty pale."

"That doesn't explain the hair." House reiterated.

"Could be malnutrition." Chase suggested.

"Werner syndrome and pernicious anemia cause premature aging." Cameron put in.

"Good, test him for all those." House ordered.

"What about his tuberculosis? If we don't treat it, he's going to die." Foreman reminded his boss.

"Hm. See which drugs he was taking for it. We'll try whatever his previous doctors didn't." House said.

The team departed to do their tests and House limped into his office to think.

*~*~*~*

While Chase and Foreman went to test a sample of the patient's DNA for the aging disorders, Cameron went to Juushiro's room to ask about the TB medicines. She found him sitting up in bed, with two dinners in front of him. The patient was rapidly consuming the food.

"Do you always eat that much?" Cameron asked, walking over to stand beside the bed.

The young man swallowed his mouthful and smiled rather sheepishly. "I have since I started showing symptoms. If I'm eating too much..." He half-offered rather guiltily.

"No, it's fine. We always have extra meals anyway." Cameron reassured him. Cutting to the chase, she asked; "Mr. Ukitake, we need to know what medicines you've taken for your TB."

"Juushiro, please. Mr. Ukitake makes me feel old."

Cameron laughed. "Okay. Juushiro, then."

Juushiro sighed slightly and scratched the back of his head. "I'm afraid I don't remember what I was taking," he confessed apologetically, "I could give you my doctor's phone number, she would know..."

"Okay. I can call her."

Juushiro gave her a slip of paper with the name _Dr. Retsu Unohana _written above a phone number in narrow, neat handwriting.

"Thanks," Cameron said, "We'll get back to you when..." She glanced down at the paper. "Dr. Unohana gets here."

"I'll be here." Juushiro joked.

Cameron nodded and left, making her way to the Diagnostics office where she could call this Dr. Unohana.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day when House entered the office, he found his team just as they had been the day before, sitting at the glass table waiting for him. What he did not expect was the dark-haired woman sitting on the armchair in his personal office.

"Who ordered the hooker?" he asked in his usual manner. "My birthday's not 'til next month."

"That's Dr. Unohana," Cameron explained, "She got here a few minutes ago." At the blank look on House's face she said; "She's Juushiro's doctor."

"And why did you call her in here? I assume it was you, by the way, because it's always you." House poured himself a cup of coffee.

"He didn't know what medicines he'd been taking. I had to call his doctor in." Cameron defended herself.

"DNA tests were negative, he doesn't have an aging disorder," Chase cut in.

"And he's not malnourished. The guy eats like a horse." Foreman added.

"Hm." Was House's well-developed response. "So... what else explains the hair?" He asked.

"Some people do turn gray prematurely. It's a genetic trait," Foreman reasoned.

"Gray. Not white," House countered.

"Whatever it is, it's not relevant to the diagnosis," Chase said, "He has TB, we treat him for it, he goes home. His hair has nothing to do with it."

House said nothing for a minute. "Fine." The team raised a collective eyebrow. House limped toward the door dividing his private office from the meeting room. "Let me know when you come up with any useful theories." He said over his shoulder.

House limped into his private office, letting the glass door shut on its own. He sat heavily in the desk chair and addressed Unohana; "Dr. Cameron seems to be under the impression that you have useful information about my patient."

"You must be Dr. House," Unohana commented pleasantly. He found her amiable smile irritating.

"Hope you don't mind, I skipped the introductions. Since they have nothing to do with the patient."

She was still smiling sweetly. "Of course. I have here the record of which drugs Juushiro has taken for his disease." Unohana pushed a few papers across the desk toward House.

He picked them up and looked them over carefully. "Rifampin, isoniazid, pyrazinamide and ethambutol..." he muttered, "All the usuals."

"I gave them to him over the standard course of time."

"And yet, my patient is relapsing," House put down the papers with a faint air of triumph, "Someone didn't take all his meds."

"I'm sure Juushiro did just what he was supposed to," Unohana contradicted, "I saw him after he was finished taking all the medication; he was fine."

"Everybody lies," House argued, "Even Mycrobacterium."

"I'm sure they're very good at hiding." Unohana was smiling like an adult indulging a fantasizing six-year-old. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to visit my patient." She got up and strode confidently to the door.

"He's my patient now!" House called after her as she exited.

*~*~*~*

A few minutes later, Wilson let himself into House's office. "Your patient has tuberculosis and yet you ordered DNA tests."

House sighed in exasperation. "I was checking for aging disorders."

"Yes, that's usually a factor in the treatment of TB." Wilson said sarcastically.

"He doesn't _just_ have TB," House explained, "He has white hair."

Wilson raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"He's twenty-four."

"Oh." Wilson said nothing for a moment. "Why are you so insistent it's a disease? Maybe he bleaches his hair."

"Or maybe it's neurological." House suggested.

"Why would it be neurological?"

"He's not afraid of death. That has to mean something."

"It means he's accepted it. People do that, you know. It's not a brain disorder."

"You haven't met him. Not only is he unafraid of death, he's nice."

"Ooh, scary," Wilson quipped, "No wonder you're treating him."

"Here comes the deep analysis of my vulnerable psyche." House muttered.

"You don't want it to be just TB because then, people can adjust to their conditions. You're afraid to accept the fact that people change because you hate change."

"I am not afraid of change."

"Yes, you are."

"Just go meet the patient. I'm telling you, it's not just TB."

"Nope," Wilson walked to the door, "I am not enabling you."

*~*~*~*

The door of Juushiro's room opened and he looked up, smiling at the sight of Dr. Unohana. She smiled back, walking sedately to his bedside. "I hear you had a relapse."

"It's not that bad," he replied with a small cough. She nodded at his usual deflection and listened to his breathing carefully.

"Does Shunsui know you're in the hospital?" Unohana asked pointedly.

"No," Juushiro said rather shortly. He obviously didn't want to talk about it.

"I think he'd want to know, don't you?"

"He doesn't want to see me. He's made that clear. I'm not going to bother him with this."

"And if you die here?" It wasn't very likely at this point, but Unohana knew that his condition could decline at an alarming rate.

Juushiro sighed after a moment. "I won't stop you, if you want to call him. But he won't come."

"We'll see," Unohana said with a warm smile. She touched his shoulder briefly. "Shunsui deserves to know, whether or not he decides to see you."

"Do what you think is best." Was all Juushiro said in reply. Unohana nodded and departed, leaving Juushiro alone with his memories.

*~*~*~*

After his chat with Wilson and some thinking, House reentered the main Diagnostics office. "The patient took a standard course of rifampin, isoniazid, pyrazinamide and ethambutol." He erased the symptoms from the board and replaced them with a list of medications:

_Rifampicin_

_Isoniazid_

_Pyrazinamide_

_Ethambutol_

_Aminoglycoside_

_Moxifloxacin_

_Rifabutin_

_Cycloserine_

_Prothionamide/Ethionamide_

_PAS_

_Clarithromycin_

_Linezolid_

_INH_

_Interferon-y_

_Thioridazine_

_Ampicillin_

He crossed off the first four and turned to the team. "Our patient has multi-drug resistant TB. Pick five."

"We can't just pick five drugs at random," Foreman protested, "We have to do a sensitivity test first."

"What if the patient dies while we're waiting for the results?" House asked dramatically.

"We don't have a choice," Cameron said, "Treating MDR-TB without a sensitivity test is impossible."

"Actually, it's just highly improbable," House contradicted.

He might have said something else; but at that moment the team's pagers went off simultaneously.


	3. Chapter 3

When they arrived in his room, Juushiro was coughing violently. A nurse monitored his vitals, but mostly she looked on helplessly as he doubled over. Blood slipped from the fingers covering his mouth and his tall frame shook with the force of the coughs. Chase and Foreman rushed to either side of the bed and held Juushiro's shoulders, supporting him as the coughs continued. Cameron hurried to close the door, ignoring Dr. Unohana rushing down the hall towards the room.

Juushiro's coughs subsided somewhat and he was able to open his eyes halfway. He struggled for breath as Chase and Foreman helped him lean back onto the pillows. Through half-lidded eyes, Juushiro saw Dr. Unohana standing on the other side of the glass. Next to her stood a very familiar person. His shabby brown hat was clutched tightly in one tan hand, the other hand buried in a pocket. Long, unruly brown hair was pulled away from his face, though a few strands had escaped. Juushiro's brown eyes met the stormy gray ones. In those familiar eyes, Juushiro saw pain and longing. He looked away before Shunsui could see those same emotions in his face.

Cameron offered him a glass of water tentatively. Juushiro took it with a small smile of thanks and drank slowly. Once he thought he could speak without triggering another attack, he said; "I'm sorry you all got dragged in here."

"It's our job," Cameron assured him.

With a slight hesitation, Chase cut in, "We have a diagnosis for your relapse." Juushiro turned his attention to the Australian doctor, open face already accepting whatever prognosis was coming. "We think you have multi-drug resistant TB."

"What does that mean?" Juushiro asked.

"It's defined as a strain of tuberculosis that isn't cured by the first-line medications," Foreman explained, "To treat it, we need to do a sensitivity test. Then we can choose which medications will help you."

"The process is long, and it's not a guarantee of being cured," Cameron warned, "But if you decide to do this, we need to start right away."

Juushiro said nothing for a moment, considering. "How long do I have, if I don't take any medication?" he asked.

Chase looked at Foreman and Cameron for a moment before answering. "It's hard to say exactly. But probably not very long."

Juushiro nodded slowly. "Can I think about it for a bit?"

"Of course," Cameron said, before either of the other doctors could object.

"Thank you."

The three doctors departed, reluctantly on Cameron's part. They stopped to confer with Unohana. Shunsui swept past the group of doctors, opening the sliding glass door and slipping inside the room. Juushiro watched him coolly, boxing up all the things he wished he could ask of Shunsui and stuffing them into a neglected corner of his heart.

"So are you going to live?" Shunsui asked, rather callously. Juushiro knew it was his way of dealing with the anxiety he always felt when Juushiro was sick.

"Maybe. If I choose to take the long course of drugs they say might cure me." Juushiro answered tiredly.

"Why wouldn't you?"

Juushiro didn't answer, but countered with a question of his own. "Why did you come?"

Shunsui sighed and sat down wearily in the chair nearest Juushiro's bed. "I couldn't _not _come. It wouldn't have been right."

It was Juushiro's turn to sigh. "Yet you said you didn't want to see me."

"I..." Shunsui hesitated. "I didn't."

"But now that I'm sick again, you do?" Juushiro let a little of the anger that had flared at that statement into his voice.

"That has nothing to do with this," Shunsui countered tiredly.

"Doesn't it?" Juushiro asked, irritated. "Almost as soon as I was cured, you walked away-"

"Because you deserve better than me," Shunsui cut him off forcefully, "I finally saw that, when I saw you unencumbered by disease."

Juushiro was silent for a long moment, watching the other man sadly. "That's not fair," he finally whispered.

"I was trying to make it fair," Shunsui defended himself.

"You can't just... decide something's not right and change it all on your own," Juushiro said in agitation, "That makes it unfair to the other person. And, in this case, to yourself."

Shunsui looked at him in surprise. Then, unable to hold Juushiro's gaze, he looked down at his own hands. After a long minute, he said; "You should take the medicines."

In genuine confusion, Juushiro asked, "How did you get from unfairness to medication?"

Shunsui chuckled softly. "Through a long, twisted chain of associations."

"As always," Juushiro teased him lightly, unable to help himself. He was rewarded with a small smile that flashed briefly across the tanned face. However, it was quickly replaced by sadness.

"I should go," Shunsui said regretfully. He wasn't sure why he had come in the first place.

"No... stay," Juushiro requested softly, "Please?" He didn't know why he asked it, but perhaps if they stayed in each other's company, that would go a long way toward mending things.

After a moment of hesitation, Shunsui nodded. He relaxed back into the uncomfortable hospital chair and watched Juushiro as the pale man gazed out the window. A soft look that he wasn't entirely aware of came into his eyes as he watched this person to whom he was so deeply attached.

*~*~*~*

"And why doesn't he want to take the medication?" House interrogated the team.

"He didn't say he didn't want to," Cameron answered, "All he asked was that we let him think about it."

"Which means he doesn't want to; because if he _did _want to, he would have agreed right away. Why didn't you try to convince him?" The question was directed more at Foreman and Chase.

"Well," Chase began, rather uncertain.

"If he doesn't want the drugs, we can't force them down his throat," Foreman said.

"Not literally," House half-agreed. No one retorted, knowing that it was useless to argue with their crazy boss. "Well," House said after a minute, "I'd better go check on the patient." And before any of his employees could stop him, he'd limped surprisingly quickly out of the office and down the hall. House popped a Vicodin with well-practiced movements before throwing open the sliding door and barging into his patient's room. Juushiro and Shunsui both jumped at the sudden noise.

"Why don't you want to be treated?" House asked sharply, limping further into the room to stand at the end of the bed.

"I never said I didn't..." the patient replied, bemused.

"But you didn't agree to take the drugs. Most people would do anything to prolong their lives; however miserable," House argued.

"I told you, I'm not afraid to die," Juushiro reiterated patiently.

"Why not?" House asked, almost incredulously.

"Death is just the natural ending to life, no matter what form it comes in. If you look at it that way, there's nothing to fear."

"So because it's going to happen anyway, it might as well happen now?"

"Yes."

"Take the drugs anyway," House commanded, impatient because that line of reasoning actually made sense to his extremely logical brain.

Juushiro frowned in thought, wishing to contradict this abrasive man despite his dislike of arguments. Before he could speak, Shunsui moved calmly to his defense.

"If he doesn't want to be treated, you have no right to force him." The dark-haired man's tone was pleasant but firm, as though he were used to informing people of grim facts.

"And you are...?" House questioned.

"Shunsui Kyouraku. You must be Dr. House. Unohana told me about you."

"Yes, I'm infamous," House waved his hand dismissively, "And you're his.. old friend? Long-lost cousin? Partner?" He questioned relentlessly. At the last guess, a light blush rose on Juushiro's cheeks and he gazed pointedly out the window. House noticed but didn't comment, having found the answer to his question.

"It's complicated." Was Shunsui's deflective response.

Before House could ask any more potentially embarrasing questions, Juushiro said; "I'll take the drugs."

The doctor looked at him for a second, taken aback. "Great," House said, "I'll order the sensitivity test." With that, he swung around and limped to the door. "By the way," he said; unable to help himself, "Why _is_ your hair that color?"

Juushiro, bemused at this sudden and seemingly random change of subject, answered slowly. "When I was fifteen, it started to turn white. I felt old, so I bleached it all. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," House said rather happily, before exiting quickly; leaving Juushiro bemused and Shunsui impassive in his wake.

*~*~*~*

The next morning when House entered the office at noon, Cameron was the only one waiting for him at the long glass table. She was reading a book, which she put down along with her glasses when he entered.

"Where are the other two Musketeers?" House asked, tossing aside his bag and coat.

"Chase and Foreman went to give the patient his first round of medication," Cameron answered; mildly disturbed by his analogy.

"Which ones are we using?" he asked with mild interest. Now that all the puzzles surrounding the patient had been solved, House wasn't as interested in Juushiro's symptoms, hair or strange perception of death.

"The sensitivity test showed he would respond best to Cycloserine, Interferon, Moxifloxacin, Rifabutin and Linezolid. So we're putting him on all of them."

"Great," House approved idly.

"Now that you're here, I'm going to get some lunch," Cameron announced. When he did not protest, she left the room. House stared into the hallway, thinking how best to avoid today's clinic duty.

Just past Juushiro's room, Cameron heard footsteps catching up to her. She looked over to see the patient's visitor from the day before striding along beside her.

"You're one of Juushiro's doctors, right?" he asked casually.

"Dr. Cameron," she introduced herself with a smile.

"I'm Shunsui," he said with a tired smile. Cameron thought he seemed kind, tense as he had been yesterday. "Can I talk to you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course. I'm just going to the cafeteria, we could get some lunch, or coffee..." she offered.

"Coffee sounds great." He looked tired, Cameron thought, not just physically but emotionally drained.

When they arrived in the cafeteria, Cameron ordered food for herself and a cup of coffee for Shunsui, which he accepted gratefully. They sat at one of the tables and Cameron waited for him to speak. After a few minutes, Shunsui broached the subject he had mixed feelings about discussing.

"Do you think Juushiro will live through this?" he asked quietly.

Cameron put down her fork slowly. "It's hard to say. But he seems to have lived through a lot."

"He has," Shunsui assured her.

"So I think he'll be okay. It won't be easy, though," she cautioned.

"He knows that. So do I," Shunsui said. He sighed and stared down at his coffee cup. "Sometimes I wish he wasn't so selfless," he muttered rather darkly.

"Why shouldn't he be?" Cameorn asked, confused.

Shunsui sighed again. He was doing a lot of that lately, he realized. "If Juushiro wasn't close to anyone, and no one would be hurt by his death; he wouldn't have agreed to take the drugs. He's content to live and die at nature's whim." Shunsui paused for a moment. "But because of me... He's willing to go through all that pain and trouble so that I won't be hurt by his death."

"Is that so bad?" Cameron asked, wanting to help this man who seemed so troubled.

"Well, no. But... yes." Shunsui shook his head rather despairingly. "I'm sorry. I'm not making any sense."

She regarded him for a moment, taking in the hunched shoulders and the anxious expression. "You really care about Juushiro, don't you," she observed after a moment.

"I want him to be happy. I hate seeing him in pain. I-" Shunsui stopped himself before continuing carefully. "I think I care more about Juushiro than I've ever cared about anyone."

"Then shouldn't you be happy that he's going to live longer?"

"I am happy about it. I just wish he was doing it more for himself and less to save me from pain that could come anyway."

"He seems like a pretty selfless person. So if he was doing this to save himself, he wouldn't really be himself anymore, would he?" Cameron speculated.

"Hm. I guess not..." Shunsui said, contemplating her words. "Maybe I'm quibbling over stupid details."

"I don't think so. You're concerned for him," Cameron said.

"That I am..." Shunsui muttered, taking a long drink from the paper coffee cup. "Well. I'll leave you to your lunch."

"You can stay, if you want..." Cameron offered.

"Thanks. But I should get back to Juushiro. He was asleep when I left."

"Okay," Cameron smiled, "Good luck."

Shunsui smiled back, then stood. He meandered out of the cafeteria, paper coffee cup still in hand.

*~*~*~*

Juushiro had, indeed, been asleep and still was when Shunsui quietly slid open the door to his room. Trying valiantly not to wake him, Shunsui crossed the room and sat on the edge of the hospital bed, watching the peacefully sleeping face. He brushed the white bangs back from closed eyes without thinking, repeating a gesture he'd been performing for years. Juushiro stirred and opened his eyes slowly.

"Hi..." he murmured, smiling sleepily.

"Hi there," Shunsui greeted him softly. He continued to watch Juushiro as the sickened man sat up slowly. Almost without knowing what he was doing, Shunsui reached out to touch him. He picked up a pale hand gently. "I'm sorry," he whispered gently; looking down at the long, elegant fingers rather than at the face whose expression he couldn't bear to guess at. "I shouldn't have left. It was... a lot of things, none of them kind or fair. So... I'm sorry."

Juushiro regarded him for a moment before speaking. "I understand why you did it. I don't agree with your reasoning, but I forgive you. You were trying to help."

Shunsui nodded and asked; "So what are we going to do now?" He was afraid of the answer. But almost immediately, he felt a cool hand tilting his face up gently. Before he could fully meet those kind brown eyes, Juushiro was kissing him. When they broke apart, Juushiro was smiling softly. "I'm glad you came back," he whispered.

Shunsui smiled genuinely; for the first time that day. "I am, too. And I won't leave this time."

Juushiro nodded gratefully and leaned his head against Shunsui's shoulder. He watched the steady rise and fall of breath in the tan throat and fell asleep again slowly, with Shunsui stroking his hair softly.

It took many months of antibiotics and sickness to rid Juushiro of the tuberculosis, but he was finally cured. Shunsui stayed with him through the whole ordeal, slowly realizing that Juushiro's selflessness was one of his best qualities. They stayed together after he was out of the hospital, and for many years to come.


End file.
